Brother The Diary Of Marcus
by AtheneMiranda
Summary: Marcus is on a quest to save his brother Blank - but can he put up with Dagger and Steiner at the same time?


**A.N.:** Hello. It's been quite a while... Sorry about the wait, I went off to write _Pylades_ and got my brain burned out a bit (a LOT) and only really got on the road again last week. All thanks to Machi... who was the first Mene reader to remember who Laudo Wren was (he's Laudo Pluto Knight IV! "I didn't want to be a Knight of Pluto, I wanted to write fantasy books"!), and requested a Marcus fic. KA-ZAM! So here it is, and it was a great suggestion, because it seems to have both deepened the arc (you'll see) and been a complete joy to write. (Mene #5 has sprouted a few pages lately, and it ought to plop out soon. I HOPE.)

This is one of my Layers Of Harmony, set just before _Natalie_, ie. early on Disc 2 when Dagger, Steiner and Marcus are heading from South Gate to Treno, having just squished Black Waltz #3. I hope I've kept Marcus IC - he's a bit more resentful in places than he is in the canon, but well, I just wrote what he told me to write... This kind-of follows up _Separate Lives (The Diary Of Dagger)_ and weaves in bits of _Natalie_ too, but you don't need to have read those fics first.

Beware! Here be **angst**, **violence**, **bad language**, **Steiner-bashing**, **Garnet-bashing** but not too much, **Treno-bashing (I HATE TRENO)**, and a little bit of **vaguely sexual angstiness** half-way down. Nothing outside PG-13, I promise. Oh, and I'm kind of assuming that Marcus and Blank aren't birth-brothers...it's not that important anyway. Hn.

* * *

**Brother**

The Diary Of Marcus   
Aerbs Mountains

_You don't know what it's like, do you? You don't have a brother…_

_Oh, you're trying hard. I can see that, and I respect it but it ain't nothin' to you inside, is it? He ain't your brother. It's a game to you. A storybook. Adventure-princess rescues noble bandit - just what are you trying to prove? That you're all grown-up now, is that it? Or that you're_ no_ble or_ gen_erous enough to pay us back for saving your sorry little rich-bitch be-hind? Nah, you don't get it. You're not like we are. You don't have a -_

_- brother._

_You aren't like me._

That's what it is, isn't it? None of them are. Not her, or her little wind-up clockwork "knight"-type…not even Baku. Not even Zidane. None of 'em know what it means to have a brother. They don't know how it is, knowin' that there'll always be someone to watch out for you, no matter what happens. They don't know what it's like to have betrayed him… They'll never know this _pain_, trudging down a mountainside with two don't-care aristos, knowing they aren't going to save my brother. Nothing can save my brother, he's been _petrified_ damnit - but I can't give up. Not when he's not dead.

And oh, she's so well-meaning I could _kill_ her. She's playing with my _brother…_

She's not here to save him. She's here to prove a point, some dumbass princess point, and little Rusty-Nuts is tagging along after. I should've lost them back at Summit Station. I don't care how much they're gonna help me, and I don't care how hopeless this'd be if I was alone in it. Yeah, I know - the Black Waltz'd've toasted me if it hadn't've been for them, and I don't care about _that_ either. She's _using_ us and I'm not gonna forget that. Hell, I wish I knew what it was for, then I could just tell her it ain't worth it and send her back to Fairyland with a bow around her neck, but…

And him. I'm not even gonna _start_ on that asshole. I say one word, take one _step_ closer to her and it's like a goddamn cuckoo clock, him cussin' at me and accusing me of everything in the goddamn book - and always, always, so demeaning. High-and-mighty you-don't-deserve-to-shine-my-shoes demeaning. I am so close to losing my temper…then I remember that I'm not gonna save Blank if I'm hanging off the sharp bit of that knitting needle of his.

Blank. These two clowns are gonna help me save Blank…it's like sacrilege, it's so wrong - I failed him then go after him with _these two_… That ain't right. But hell, means to an end, man, means to an end. Rescuing him is worth anything, even _this_.

I hope.

*

She raises up a hand to shade her eyes, looking east to the distant city walls. Her staff leans against the ground, held loosely in her left hand as she skirts the horizon with her glance. She breaks off and turns to me, looking kiddy-worried again. "It's getting dark over there. Will there be a storm?"

Gods save me, does she know _anything_ about the world outside her ivory tower? "We're getting into the Dawn Zone, miss. It's always dark near Treno." I scowl preemptively, but a look from Dagger stills Steiner's _"you will address the princess as Your Highness yadayadayada"_ before it starts.

She turns her face to the city again. I wonder, how long did she have to practise in front of her mirror before she got the Wistful Look correct? "So that's Treno."

Hm, they teach you how to state the obvious in elocution class, then? "Yes." She waits, swaying the staff slightly in the grass, circling it away from her body then close-in again. "So, do you want to get there today or not?"

"I'm just looking, okay?"

I jump, just a little. _That_ was something else, that little bite, those little words… Almost like she's letting something other than Good Breeding out of the cage. A snort of laughter slips out of my mouth before I can stop it. "What?"

"Nothin'. Just that, well, maybe some of Zidane rubbed off on you after all."

Her brown eyes narrow, in - pain, anger, I can't tell which. Maybe there isn't much difference. "It's not funny."

"Never said it was." I stride past her before she can find a suitably imperious response, out into the dusky-green plain. I hear her move to follow, or rather I hear _him_ following _her_, and I slow to let them clump ahead again. If there's one thing I can't rely on them to do, it's play rearguard.

The dry grass writhes up my ankles as we walk, scratching and tickling, getting springier and wilder the further we get from the border. There's no road here. Not a lot of people go to Treno, or leave it either. It ain't that kind of town. Damn, I'm almost glad to have Rustalot along; he's one hell of a trailbreaker.

Then, a Zahngol would make a good trailbreaker. And it'd also repeatedly try to eat me and make one hell of a lot of noise. Not a bad analogy…

The sky becomes yellow, then blood-red like the dark moon, then shifts further into blackness as the city comes closer and closer. I never like coming round here - I hate the way you can't tell the difference between day and night. You never know what's in those shadows… The winds whistles a bit, very low and soft. Dagger starts to move more slowly, eyes wide and unsettled. She drops back until she's level with me again, and I nudge her on with a tap to the shoulder. "Sorry," she whispers, and picks up her pace.

"Don't worry." She looks up at me, half-timidly. The other half…? Ah, hell with it. "It gets to me too."

"Oh." She shakes a loose lock of hair, sleek and dark, away from her eyes. It blows straight back into her face again. It's too good, that hair. Too well-cared for. A few months on the road'd teach it some manners, rough it up a bit and get some good dust in it, give it some sticking power -

Like someone else not far from here.

"You don't look scared."

She gets me straight in the eyes again. What is it with her? Well, she's trying. Even getting used to this. Maybe I should give her a break. "You don't have to be scared to not like a place, miss Dagger. And just 'cause something's scary doesn't mean you have to be scared. I'm just staying alert. There's a lot of monsters 'round here, and it's better to be ready for 'em than scared of 'em."

She nods, slowly, like she's actually thinking about what I just said. "I guess that's something else I'll have to learn, then."

Learning. Huh, maybe she is learning. I mean, it's a big step between Princess Pampered and chewed-up highwayman like me, and she's genuinely trying to pick up the good bits of whatever Zidane and me've shown her. Not like Steiner.

"_Princess_?" Speak of the devil… "_Is that cur threatening you again_?"

"Steiner…" She sighs, frustrated, and who can blame her? "He's just talking to me, Steiner."

He stiffens, extending a crooked knee in what might be some patent Noble-Knight posture. "My apologies, Princess, but - I do not trust this brigand!"

Who wrote this script, anyway? _Brigand, bandit, scoundrel, cur, robber, layabout…_I could toss a coin and bet which one's gonna come out next. Does he keep a dictionary in that tin-can suit or something? At least they're mainly, heh, _true_. Although…if he ever called Blank by any of 'em I'd kill him, as slowly and painfully as only a Tantalene knows how.

_Blank._

"He hasn't done _anything_, Steiner, not to either of us, and there's no need to talk to him like that." She pulls up, both hands on her hips. Great, now they're fighting over me, I do _not_ need this…

Well, he thinks he knows his _place_, I guess. "I…am sorry, Princess. I did not mean to offend you. It is merely…"

"That this place is creepy as all hells?" I offer, eyebrows riding up into my bandanna.

His oversized sword grates out of his scabbard, flashing dramatically upward. "I am not afraid of the darkness! I am a _knight_!"

It hurts, but I really must _not_ facepalm, whatever the temptation. I settle for roughly tightening my bandanna knot a little - you get the same yank-to-the-forehead, but I can't say it's as satisfying. "Just cut the crap and get moving," I mutter. This place is open-ground, too damn breezy, full Night-Zone and as flat as - as Princess Dagger! _(liar)_ If we stay in one place and make noise something is _going_ to come after us.

At least it's not much further. I stalk off toward the rearing city walls. They're so close now I can almost smell the slums inside them, the rancid stink of a place where no-one has anything but the clothes they stand up in and the place where they sleep. I've been round here a few times - we business-people move around a lot - and the last time was about year ago. It scared me, seeing those people lying under the walls, pale and thin, clutching everything they own in one hand and grabbing at your ankles with the other… It's gotta be the worst place in the world. In Lindblum or Alex it's never so bad - the winners look out for the losers a bit, and there's always those not-so-rich people who aren't too posh to pass an old coat to the nearest gamin or something. Treno's different. Treno's got no-one who cares for anyone in it. I spent a week there last year, and I never saw anyone holding _hands_, rich or poor - they just don't give a damn about each other. That place made me so angry…

There's kids there, too. Lots of kids. They're either trussed up in petticoats or barefoot and rag-clad, never between. I remember buying a Potion in the backstreets there, seeing a little girl on the floor by a crate, filling bottles up with curatives. I couldn't have seen her, it was so dark down there, except she'd been working so long that her fingers were glowing. The magic had seeped into her skin and set it glowing. It takes about twelve hours solid of Potion exposure for that to happen… She was a Treno drifter-kid, no more than seven years behind her. The kind who'll do anything for two gil, however much it hurts. I couldn't cry for her, not then. That came later, on the next street corner, when I met who she'd grow into. She's still thin and pale and barefoot, with even less clothes on her, holding to the lamp to stand up straight. Greasy hair pulled forward so you can't tell if it's soot or bruises she's painted her eyes with, a thin, crooked limb held out, wanting to be alluring like she's seen on the fronts of the magazines, but just managing to look even colder… She was fourteen at best, probably younger, but she'll still do anything for two gil. However much it hurts. And there's nowhere else the other kid was going, except maybe Hell. She'll never in her life see the sunshine…

God that place makes me sick. At least Blank was there last time.

At least back then I had a brother…

_Clangclangclangclangclang_. Makes a kinder diversion than my stupid daydreams, even if it is him. I stop, suddenly, realising that I've got a long way ahead of the other two. The city's less than half a mile, and the wind's getting wild.

Steiner's plodding along thirty feet behind me, frowning into the breeze. He looks ridiculous knee-deep in grass - like he's lost his chocobo, hah. I stick two rough fingers in my mouth and whistle, making him look up from the ground. "Hey, Steiner." He clinks his way up to me - it's hard to talk over the sound of the wind. He grinds to a halt at speaking distance. "We're nearly here. I just wanted to say, I think you ought to stay in the waterfront district when we get there, okay? It's pretty rough further away from the river -"

"Ah, I knew it! You want to sneak off and carry out your nefarious plans, is that it?"

Damn you. "No, I just think you and the princess'd be safer -"

Our eyes meet and I can see my thoughts reflected in his stony eyes. Oh dear gods…

We speak simultaneously. _"Where did Dagger go?" "Where is the princess?"_ His mouth parts. My eyes close, then open, and I heave at my bandanna knot. He turns and runs away from me, clattering and crying "_Princess!!!_" into the sky.

Good hells. I follow Steiner down the trail, scanning the ground ahead for dainty little footprints, or some sign that she's cut off into the meadow. He shouts for her; she'll never hear him, not in this weather. I whistle again, louder and higher.

She answers with a scream.

It's off north by maybe thirty yards, too damn far anyway. Steiner lunges off before I react. The sound repeats, shrill and full of fear, and I barrel after the charging knight, sword reflexively sliding into my grip. Grass and weeds slice through the skin on my ankles, drawing blood down onto my socks, but I don't slow up. The screams become pained little whimpers, closer and closer in the headlong rush - a flash of light blooms dead ahead of us -

She's there, covered in blazing yellow light, feet lost in the grass and body ducking defensively. Between her and us is a cloud of vaguely human-shaped mist.

"Ghost!" I call. Dagger glances across at me, looking desperate, just as Steiner slams straight into its back. It lets off a spine-chilling moan and swirls to strike him back. Dagger takes the chance and knocks him one, sending it reeling but not taking it down. It roils toward me, trying to regain control, and I stab it straight in the head with all my strength.

It dodges.

My momentum sends me to the floor, landing too hard to roll it. I lie there a second too long and when I feel its cold breath on my neck I start shaking uncontrollably. I thrash upward, kicking air, I've gotta get away from those _teeth_ -

"_Villain_!" The voice rings above me and I grunt as Steiner plants a foot on my leg. He jumps for it, misses, and I rise like a cricket, sword spinning but connecting with nothing. Another flash - something slips into my bones, hardening, thickening, crackling all the way over my body. Defence magic, must be, does it have to make us look like fireworks? Steiner's hacking at it but it's gone high, curling like smoke in the darkness. It hovers above us, then swoops down and takes Steiner in the neck.

"_Aaaagh_!" He drops so hard the ground thumps, sword flying up into the thing's centre. It moans again, anguished, and green blood starts pouring out of its belly. Dagger manages another thump, knocking it off its new meal, and I slash at it before it can fly off again. It pounces round my blade, thrashing a shady limb at my face - and its blow bounces clean off the magical barrier. I stab again and punch it with my left, the two blows hitting one on each side. Dagger's rod hits out again and it cries, enraged, dropping to the ground below us. Its body falls straight through the tall blades of grass, still moving, and I stab it viciously in what might be a vital organ.

It stills and then vanishes into the ether.

I plant my sword in the earth and lean on it, breath coming in painful pants. I look across at Dagger and Steiner -

- and find them both in the grass, the one bent over the other. "Steiner?" she whispers, tugging off his helmet by the brim. He lies on his back, completely still. I can see the blood on his throat by the spell-light still clinging to her fingers. A _lot_ of blood, oh hell… She gasps, puts a hand to his forehead, and closes her eyes. 

"Dagger?" She shakes her head and mutters something, too quiet to catch, and her hands erupt with white light. I blink against the glow, and when I look again his chewed-up throat is totally healed over. But he's still not breathing. "Dagger…"

"He'll be okay," she whispers, quietly but very insistent.

"Really? How?"

She closes her eyes again. "I - I can't - he's not -"

Despair; damn does it bite hard. I shake her by the shoulder. "You're a healer, Dagger. You can do this! I'll help you if you tell me what we can do. But only _you_ can _do_ it, you hear me? I don't know shit about this stuff, you gotta do it for yourself!"

She shudders, once - then looks me dead in the face. Again. I can see her expression changing muscle by muscle as determination conquers girlish panic. "I'm too low. Do you have an Ether?" I riffle though my belt pouches, finding one near the bottom of my potion collection - I never use them except to sell when I need fast cash. She uncorks it and drops it straight down her throat, swallowing it all in one gulp and wiping her lips off on her sleeve - _wiping her lips on her sleeve_? No shit, it's hanging damp on the knight's breastplate, hell has she changed this past month… She waves me away from her, and I draw back into the soft grasses. She's changed, man, she's changed a _lot_. Her entire body tenses and her arms spread, out over the knight's body, strands of light coming off her already-lit fingers. Her whole form shining, she closes her eyes and chants, chants, louder and harder, light getting brighter by the moment. One harsh word, and she lets it all go at once, sparks exploding everywhere, light blooming white and gold and just slightly red…

It fades down into her yellowed fingers. A second of stillness, then... _"…princess…"_

She laughs in relief. "Don't call me that, Steiner." She stands up, offering him a hand to help him upright. It's still glowing, and she suddenly reminds me of the little potion-bottler, stood there reaching for the bulk on the floor. He pulls himself into a sitting position, and she offers him his helmet. He takes it and jams it on his head, still dazed.

"Princess," he murmurs, and she doesn't correct him this time. "You saved me, didn't you? With your white magic…" She nods. "Princess, you saved me!" he repeats. Quick on the uptake, aren't we, Rusty? "Oh Princess, however did you do it?"

She looks across at me again, as if she's trying to tell me something. "I've never cast that spell before, Steiner. I'm glad it worked." She grabs his elbow and yanks the twelve-stone man and his full-plate armour to their collective feet one-handed. "After all," she adds, walking off, "you're all I've got, you know." The grass swishes around her feet. She grabs her rod from the floor and marches off to the city, glowing like a torch.

I offer Steiner a shoulder while he finds his balance. That was a hell of a knock to the head he just got. "Alright," he says a moment later, and _clangclangclang_s after her shimmering silhouette. I follow, rearguard again, as the city lights get nearer.

All she's got. I wonder, does he get it? He's all she's got. Like she's all he's got, she's his 'duty' and his 'honour,' pretty words but what it means is, she's everything that matters to him. Like Blank's all _I've_ got. So is that why she puts up with him? Because he's her…

He looks out for her, doesn't he? And she looks out for him too. Steiner's, like, the one person she can rely on to be there for her, and her for him sometimes as well. And they both care, sometimes too much, but it's nothin' romantic, it's just love, that's all. They've got faults. She's confused and too naïve sometimes. He's overprotective in spades. Then, Blank swears too much and takes way too many risks, and as for me…don't go there. But yeah. It is like that. You could… You could say he's her brother. Yeah.

*************************************

(Well? I realised that, about how Dagger and Steiner think of each other, after I started the fic. Just my way of making sense of their strange and annoying relationship - if you think of it as being like a brother/sister thing it makes a lot more sense, and makes their stressed-out interactions seem a lot less irritating too. No, I'm NOT in ANY WAY trying to imply that they WERE siblings...just saying that they often behave as if they are. Well? Opinions? Flames? Etcetera?)

_A.M._


End file.
